Some places just grab you, shake you and never let you go.  It could be Yosemite, St. Peters, Iguazu Falls or…Mongolia.  We have certainly come to love this place, it’s wide open spaces, the nomadic lifestyle of it’s people, the vast Gobi Desert, the northern mountains and especially the gers.  We can tell already Mongolia will be in our hearts forever.  But sadly, inevitably, we only have a few days left in this adventure wonderland.

We woke on our third last day in the small dusty town of Ikh-Uul, our only ‘guesthouse’ for the trip and a couple stars short of our familiar gers, packed up and were away by 0915 on what turned out to be our longest driving day of the trip.  Every trip has one and this was it.

Mongolia doesn’t have any bad scenery, boring scenery or forgettable scenery. Absolutely every moment is filled with wonderful scenes in all directions.  The rolling mountains are covered in a green blanket, occasionally spotted with herds of goats an sheep, or perhaps wild horses roaming about, dashed with numerous white circular gers in the distance and faint car tracks across the grass leading this way and that to destinations unknown.

But on we trekked on good paved roads, a rarity here, mainly tracking eastward, Dashca in his usual mood, the rest of us in a completely different mood.  We would stop occasionally for petrol or snacks or a cigarette or a toilet or some combination thereof, eventually stopping for lunch on a rise in the road with expansive views all around. 

We were scheduled to taste the cold water from a natural artesian spring and see a large extinct volcano but neither of these ever materialised and we trekked on through the towns of Bulgan and the large copper mining town of Erdenet before hitting our turnoff and heading north on our much more enjoyable braided dirt road across the open prairies.  Our destination was the famous 18^th century Buddhist monastery of Amarbayasgalant.

Turning towards the monastery and finding it are two different things once you leave the bitumen.  We tracked well for a while but at some stage Dashca missed the faint dirt track off to the right, one of dozens I must say, and eventually we ended up in nowhere land.  I found it on one of my mapping apps but Dashca was confident he could find it himself and so he did after heading up and over a mountain ridge on a faint four wheel drive track.

We arrived in this otherworldly valley with the huge ancient monastery as the proud centrepiece and eventually we found our ger for the night, actually only metres from the monastery walls.  We had an enjoyable and somewhat melancholy last night in our last ger, Julie whipping up another magical meal from the bottom of her cardboard box, and we talked nostalgically about our time in Mongolia even though it hadn’t finished yet.

The next morning we woke to a drizzle and some distant thunder but never mind, off we ventured, first up the steps to a beautiful Buddha overlooking the village below, then into the monastery itself. 

Amarbayasgalant Monastery was completed in 1737 as the final resting place of Zanabazar, the spiritual head of Mongolian Buddhism during the previous century.  It is a sprawling symmetrical complex with multiple buildings and the very handsome main temple in the middle.  Once featuring over 40 temples, it was partly destroyed by Stalinist forces in the 1930’s and only 28 temples remain. 

We had the complex to ourselves as we explored the different buildings and courtyards, marveling at the beauty and serenity of the place.  The buildings were in a state of graceful decay which somehow added to their allure.  Visiting the monastery on our last full day in Mongolia was a moving and fitting symbolic end to our journey.

Dashca pointed our Land Cruiser down the dirt track and eventually we made the paved road again.  At one point we were only 135 kilometres from the Russian border before turning south and enjoying the four lane divided highway all the way to Ulaanbaatar.

What we didn’t enjoy was the absolutely diabolical traffic we hit when we arrived on the city’s edge.  Ulaanbaatar has a lot going for it but the traffic is not one of them.  We crept our way slowly to our apartment, the same place we stayed at when we first arrived, and were soon in the nearby pub enjoying celebratory beers and burgers.

The next morning a new driver – Miigaa – picked us up at 0915 and patiently battled the traffic until he delivered us to the airport 70 minutes later.  We checked into our Asiana flights and eventually whisked away to our separate destinations.  For Dave, his trip was over and he was heading home after a two month trip around the Stans and Mongolia.  For Julie and I, we transited through Seoul, South Korea, crossed the Pacific and arrived in San Francisco.  The next leg of our journey was about to begin under completely different circumstances.

Mongolia has had a profound effect on our global travel experience, a vast land with a raw untrammeled beauty, a country that richly rewards visitors who seek a unique adventure and are prepared to accept the many challenges that it throws up. 

We will forever remember our many nights in the cosy and comfy gers, the endless braided dirt tracks that crisscrossed the country, the infinite herds of sheep, goats, horses, yaks and camels that own the open spaces and the spectacular natural scenery, whether it be the Gobi Desert, the high mountains, the alpine lakes or the uncountable rivers and streams that we crossed.   Mongolia gets in your blood and you don’t want to lose it.

Our time in California will be absolutely fantastic but there’s only one Mongolia.